Chapter 68

Chapter 68

Over the next two days, Xu Muchan spent his time in the West Courtyard except when refining the plan with Wei Ting.

Though devoid of memories, He also seemed to enjoy the West Courtyard, often standing in the pavilion that Wei Xilou used to frequent, gazing out at the scenery.

Xu Muchan always stayed by his side. While He gazed into the distance, Xu Muchan would tilt his head up to watch him.

Sometimes he even felt that the person before him was never really a deity at all, but had always been the eldest young master of the Wei family, Wei Xilou.

Xu Muchan grabbed His arm, pressed his forehead against his arm and nuzzled it, whispering, "Brother, if I do something bad, will you be angry?"

The person before him turned around, seeming puzzled: "What bad thing?"

Xu Muchan looked at him and gave a sly smile: "You'll find out later."

Today was the last day of their agreement with Wei Ting.

Since it was already dark, Xu Muchan took His hand and led him toward the main house: "Brother, let's go to sleep."

The deity was unusually quiet as Xu Muchan led him into the main room. Xu Muchan sat down at the edge of the bed, tilting his head to look at Him: "You don't have to soothe me tonight. I want to sleep on my own."

With that, he removed his outer robe, leaving only his underclothes, then climbed to the far side of the bed, turning his face to look at the deity standing by the bed: "Aren't you coming up, brother?"

The deity lay down in the spot Xu Muchan had left for him, turning to face him, his crimson vertical pupils fixed on him.

Xu Muchan scooted a few times on the bed and easily wriggled into his arms, hugging his arm tightly.

Noticing He still had his crimson eyes open, watching him, Xu Muchan reached out to cover His eyes, his lips almost pressed against the back of his hand as he whispered softly: "Brother, this time you close your eyes."

He closed them obediently.

Xu Muchan gazed at this face—now nearly unrecognizable—for a long time, yet it didn't feel unfamiliar. He even lowered his head and gently kissed the closed slit of his eye, then shyly burrowed back into his embrace, pressing his cheek against His chest, and said in a muffled voice: "Brother, good night."

"Good night, baby."

Though he didn't understand the meaning of "good night," the deity mimicked his words and said it back the same way.

The main room fell quiet. Xu Muchan remained motionless in the same position, silently calculating how far Wei Ting must have gotten by now.

According to the plan, he had already moved all other members of the Wei family away from the Ascension Tower that afternoon, and now he had also kept his brother occupied. If all went smoothly, Wei Ting should have already sneaked into the Ascension Tower with his people by now.

Xu Muchan kept track of the time, only to feel the chest beneath his palm suddenly heave.

He immediately looked up and saw that the vertical eye on his brother's face had snapped open, the crimson eyeball sliding in its socket—he was already preparing to rise.

It was probably Wei Ting making his move, and his brother had sensed it. Xu Muchan scrambled up and grabbed his arm: "Brother, what's wrong?"

He turned his head toward the Ascension Tower, his voice heavy with anger: "A thief."

Xu Muchan pursed his lips, then simply swung a leg over to straddle his waist. With sheer brute force, he shoved the man back down, then lowered his head to kiss him, pressing their cheeks together as he said: "Brother, I still want to see you again."

His crimson vertical eyes blinked, and the man beneath stared intently at him. Xu Muchan felt his strength wane, so he covered His eyes with both hands and kissed him once more.

A faint flush crept up his face, his expression somewhat bashful, yet he held the man down with stubborn determination, refusing to let him rise: "Brother, don't mind the thief."

The man he'd pinned down seemed to relent, no longer struggling. Instead, more arms reached out from behind him, gripping Xu Muchan's arms and waist, wrapping around him.

This time Xu Muchan didn't resist, instead letting out a slight sigh of relief, silently hoping Wei Ting would hurry up.

But clearly he had relaxed too soon. Just as he breathed easier, the man beneath him twisted his body, and their positions suddenly reversed. Xu Muchan was pressed into the soft bedding by a tangle of arms, instantly unable to move.

The deity above copied his actions, kissing him on the lips, then pressing a kiss to his eyelids.

Xu Muchan's eyelids immediately grew heavy. He bit his tongue, desperately fighting off the drowsiness creeping over him, and his arms going weak, he desperately grabbed hold of the one preparing to leave. He threw himself forward clumsily: "Brother, don't go."

Perhaps due to his agitation, his pupils shifted to a dark red without him realizing it, and the sleepiness that had been creeping over him dissipated.

Xu Muchan suddenly became much more alert. Quickly, he took off the Mountain God Amulet from his neck and wound it around his wrist, then clung to the one trying to leave with his arms and legs.

Without the Mountain God Amulet, Xu Muchan finally managed to ghostify this time.

His hair, which had grown long behind him, sensed Xu Muchan's intent and, like long serpents, coiled around the struggling deity, binding him up.

"Baby, not obedient."

Seeming angered, His gaze toward Xu Muchan was no longer gentle. More arms extended from his back, grabbing at the black hair that coiled around him like serpents.

The black hair slithered through his palms, and Xu Muchan raised his head to meet His gaze, gritting his teeth: "I won't let you go. If you make a move, just try it."

With that, the slithering hair wound around his palms several times, binding the extended arms behind his back.

He looked down at the one clinging tightly to him. The hair wasn't indestructible—if he wanted to break free, there were ways—but it would leave the person in his arms even weaker.

Xu Muchan's body trembled slightly. Under the weight of such oppressive rejection, a faint sweetness rose in his throat.

When he had first arrived, he had also tried to ghostify, but it had failed. Not only that, he had felt an intense sense of pressure and rejection.

But only after ghostifying did he realize that the pressure and rejection he had felt before were nothing compared to this.

He wasn't from this era to begin with, rejected by this time and space. Now that he had ghostified, the rejection was even stronger, already backlashing against his body.

Crimson blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. Xu Muchan clenched his teeth desperately, afraid that if he showed any sign of weakness, his brother would seize the opportunity to break free.

But unbeknownst to him, He had lowered his head and seen everything.

The struggling stopped. He caught the slipping body, held it in his arms, and placed his own finger into Xu Muchan's mouth, coaxing: "Baby, eat."

Xu Muchan's vision blurred in waves. As the thick liquid slid into his mouth, he instinctively began to suck.

The liquid he swallowed improved his condition considerably, but the world's rejection of him did not lessen. He vaguely realized he probably couldn't stay here much longer, and could only force his eyes wide open to look at the one holding him, saying hoarsely: "Brother, take care of yourself. We'll meet again."

The deity holding him lowered his head, gently patting and soothing him: "Don't cry."

Xu Muchan's vision grew very blurry. He wanted to say more, opened his mouth, but suddenly lost consciousness—

"Hurry up! Something feels off..." Wei Ting urged the others in a low voice.

Their faces were all wrapped in cloth, concealing their distorted features.

A carriage waited outside the Ascension Tower. Several people worked together to hoist the heavy coffin onto the carriage. Wei Ting hastily jumped aboard, urging the others: "Get on, let's go!"

Though Xu Muchan had said the side gate was already open, Wei Ting's heart remained in his throat until they drove the carriage out.

The whipped horse reared its hooves with a neigh, bolting out through the side gate, charging into the night with a carriage full of people and a coffin.

At the same time, the main gate of the Wei residence was slammed open. A group of people in varied attire rushed in holding torches. The leader, dressed in a Daoist robe, frowned: "Such heavy yin energy. I knew the Wei family's gates being shut tight for so long meant something was wrong."

The group raised their torches, stepped over the high threshold, and walked deeper into the old estate.

Meanwhile, on the other side, Wei Ting clung desperately to the ropes tied around the coffin, his face pale as he urged the horses onward into the depths of the night. Because of the haste, the ropes had not been tied securely, and now, jolting along the bumpy road, they came loose, and a crack appeared between the coffin and its lid.

Wei Ting noticed this and, flustered, he barked orders at the others: "The ropes on the coffin are coming loose—hurry up and retie them."

The others had regained consciousness, but they were in far worse shape than Wei Ting, and they could only move stiffly and mechanically, just going through the motions of carrying out his orders.

But before the ropes could be retied, a pale hand suddenly reached out from the gap in the coffin.

The sturdy ropes were snapped apart by sheer force, the heavy coffin lid was shoved aside, and Wei Xilou, who had been dead for some time, sat up from within the coffin, his gaze landing on Wei Ting, who was cowering with the others in terror.

"B-B-Brother..." Wei Ting stammered, too frightened to speak properly, inwardly cursing Xu Muchan for lying to him.

Wei Xilou stared at him expressionlessly for a long moment, and just as Wei Ting was on the verge of fainting from fear, he heard him say: "I still have some matters to attend to. You go on to Jiangcheng first; I will come find you later."

With that, he leaped down from the carriage and vanished into the night.

Wei Ting, still shaken, lifted the carriage curtain to look outside, but saw nothing. He clasped his hands together in a clumsy, half-baked gesture of prayer, sincerely hoping that his elder brother, having left, would never come back—and would never come looking for him again.